Jaloux
by xXDark.Lord.MeloniousXx
Summary: Jealousy-Love-Tears-Betrayal-Ninjas-Grandma!...it's not as interesting as it sounds XD This is a request done for kyleisgod, a lemon for Wendy and Kyle. R&R please


**Hey! This is a lemon for Wendy and Kyle so Viewer Discretion Advised! This was a request done for kyleisgod and I really hope everyone likes it! Leave a review with your thoughts, please! :3**

"I'm jealous."

It took that one statement. Those two words. Those three syllables and everything deteriorated. Her eyes were a caramel brown, never looking into his as they sat in the abandoned living room. His fro was a heavy jungle of silky curls nowadays, never frizzy or puffed up as it used to be. His eyes were big, swirling clouds of emerald that complimented his pale, freckled face. His features were sharp, yet still boyish despite his resume of seventeen years since birth. His thick, but befitting lips parted as he asked slowly,

"Jealous?"

She turned to him finally, smiling sadly, "Yeah. I'm jealous."

He felt his cheeks dye with pink as he admired her feminine lips, glossed and lovely. He secretly loved how soft and gentle her voice was, he secretly loved how tender and caring her touch was. Her figure was intimidating, thin and shapely, her chest so enticing in her turtleneck sweaters that she changed her style to evade staring eyes. Her hair was long and satin, ivory sleeves of charcoal reaching the small of her back. Some threads of said mane slipped over her ear as she turned away again, looking to the fireplace.

"You didn't accept Stan's proposal…because you're jealous?"

She sighed. Stan played two roles in this drama, a role of a best friend to Kyle Broflovski, and what was supposed to be a fiancé to Wendy Testaburger, but she denied him. Kyle found it strange that whenever he said that name, that name which was meant to define love and devotion to Ms. Testaburger, she sighed as if a pebble were stuck in her shoe. She turned her visage further from Kyle's vision and replied,

"Yes, I am jealous, so I won't marry Stan."

Kyle still stared at her, bewildered, as he inquired, "…jealous…what are you jealous of? Stan shows you all the love in the world, gives you everything you've ever wanted…who in the world could you be jealous of?"

Her dainty hands shifted from her knees to her hairline, her legs crawled up against her chest, her back resting against the bottom of the couch. She closed her eyes, and Kyle was almost certain he saw her shaking slightly until she mumbled something incoherent.

"…sorry?"

She looked to him, her eyes rimmed with tears, "I'm jealous of him and every other girl in the world."

He was taken aback; what could make Ms. Testaburger so uncharacteristically selfish?

"Him…and every other girl? You're going to have to explain yourself, Wendy, cause I'm lost. Why would you be jealous of him?"

She laughed pathetically and looked away for a moment. She took a deep breath and returned her gaze to him, elaborating, "I'm jealous because whenever he wants to, he can fall asleep next to you, he can hold you and spend all the time he wants…"

Kyle's lack of shock told Wendy he did not understand, but before she could clarify he quizzed, "Are you angry that I hog him? I'm sorry, Wendy, I didn't know! You should have told me earlier, I'm sorry…I really didn't know, he's just been with me every waking moment since we were little, so I just…I don't realize…I'm sorry, Wendy, I didn't mean to mess everything up for you guys…"

Wendy laughed morbidly again, reaching her soft palm to his cheek, cupping his freckled, worried expression as she told him, "No, Kyle…I'm not angry because of that…I'm angry because I can't spend all that time with you, that I can't hold you or…fall asleep next to you…"

Kyle's eyes were opened wide, it seemed to Wendy that he was beginning to understand as she dropped her hand and continued, "And every other girl…I know every other girl in the world would have more of a chance with you than I ever will…that's why I wouldn't take Stan's promise ring."

Kyle was the one to look away now, staring at his pallid, bare feet on the red carpeted floor. She admired how the fire a few feet away casted dancing shadows across his handsome face, how his dark, lashes only enhanced the startling beauty of his jade eyes. She loved how despite the fact that his soft complexion made him seem almost icy to the touch, he was incredibly warm and strong. She loved how he was those four inches taller than her, loved how his dexterous hands skimmed skillfully across the heart-wrenching notes he played on her piano. She loved how he was reluctant to love, reluctant to trust, she loved how he talked about paintings and studied for hours if only to avoid socializing. She loved how he thought himself awkward even though he may be the most graceful person she ever encountered. Every movement was poetry, every word was a sparkling melody and when he would look to her from behind his thick, glossy curls and say the very thing she always needs to hear…how he would always know just how she felt, understood her, how he was absolutely everything she'd ever need…you could say she loved that too.

"Tell me when you're ready." He told her abruptly, but softly.

She snapped her senses back into play and responded nearly inaudibly, "What?"

He rose, his jeans baggy around his thin, but muscular legs. She loved how he ran too, how his body was so lanky but athletic, every glimpse she ever got of his physique drove her mad for more. She would never voice that, though. She would never want the boy to think of her as indecent, although something in the back of her mind told her he was too perfectly understanding to ever think that of her.

"I said to tell me when you're ready."

He walked to the staircase that sat in front of the main entrance of the house. His shoes and socks sat on the stairs, so he sat on the fourth stair, reaching for his articles as she raced over to him. She seemed out of breath; she blamed it on the suspense he caused.

"Ready? Ready for what?" She begged.

He fashioned his sympathetic, just-what-she-needed smile as he replied gently, "Tell me when you're ready for me to respond to what you've told me."

Her eyes widened. She knew he was understanding; he was always that way, but she did not expect any boy to ever be so wary of her emotions. She wanted to utilize that option, tell him in a year in some dramatic voice that wasn't hers that she was ready then, that she was prepared emotionally to be put down or dragged in. She couldn't wait, though. Every moment he wasn't there was a day, and those days quickly add up to weeks and months and Stan could never understand. Stan would try to be like Kyle, or try to fill that space with something of his own, but it would prove fruitless and she would only grow more hungry for his best friend. She had to hear now, for quickly she was aging in this painful anticipation.

"I'm ready now, please tell me…please tell me now." She quickly uttered.

He looked up to her, his elbows resting up against his knees which were perched squarely on the stair below the one his torso rested on as he interviewed, "Are you positive? If you're really not ready to hear my answer you should wait. After all, you're still with St-''

"Don't say his name."

Kyle was a bit taken, but he silenced as she added, "Don't say his name, just answer me."

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes, I am, I want to hear." She defended.

"No, about your feelings for me. Are you certain that they're…real?"

Her face flushed, the tone in his voice told her the answer. He would never accept this; she should have known from the very start, they're best friends after all. Kyle is far too sensitive to other peoples' emotions to ever do that to the person who trusts him most. She had gone too far, though, she'd told him to tell her his answer and she was too stubborn to tell him she wasn't ready. That she wasn't ready for the heartbreak, that she wasn't ready to hear his rejection. She would never be ready for that.

"Yes."

"…what is it that you…uhm…feel for me?"

"Sorry?"

He glanced away shyly for a moment, earning an unheard thump of Wendy's heart as a reward for his timid, unsure demeanor. He repeated, "I mean…do you…feel…I mean…what do you feel for me? Do you want to…sleep with me? Is it just some…lust that for whatever reason, Stan can't…uh…fulfill…or…is it…something else?"

"I am in love with you, Kyle." She told him quickly.

His face looked up to her with his shocked, sparkling eyes as he wondered, "Really?"

"Yes."

They fell silent for a moment. She knew this silence. On a date that Kyle accompanied them on, they went to New York City, to the largest museum Wendy could find on the map. Stan was bored out of his mind, which made her bored being around him. She looked to the other side of the marble hall, and she saw Kyle staring at a painting. She walked over to him and asked, "What do you see?" She watched him step away from the portrait, exactly two steps back as he told her softly, "Love." She looked to him, blushing lightly at the word he so easily spewed. She asked him, "Love?" and he told her with his charming, dazzling gaze, "Yeah…isn't that what I'm supposed to use? Love is the word we give that feeling that doesn't have words to describe it. We had to give it a word all its own. When I look at this, there's so much there that there aren't words for, or at least…aren't words that will do it justice. That's love, isn't it?" She was far too amazed not to smile to him as she responded, "Yeah…I guess you're right."

She hoped that right now he was taking two steps back, looking at her inwardly and finding that there were no words to describe what she felt for him. That there was a beauty that needed a word all its own, simply because no other words could do it justice.

"You're ready for me to respond, then, right?"

"Yes."

Before she could even complete that one syllable his lips were meshed with hers. Her heart was pounding against her chest, fighting the urge to burst from her. She felt his arms reach down and gently grip her wrists as he slid his tongue across her lips, beseeching her for entrance. She eagerly granted him said entrance as she allowed her body to nearly fall limp against him. She felt him lift her arms up and wrap them around his shoulders. He took her hand and guided them into locking with his satin hair as he kissed her passionately without a noise that was not muted by the crackling of the fireplace. When they broke the kiss to catch their breaths their foreheads rested against the other, Wendy fought back tears of euphoric elation as she blurted, "I thought I'd have to breathe my last breath without you."

"Life's not about that…it's not about the breaths you take, Wen, it's about what takes your breath away."

She grinned, replying, "You take my breath away."

They kissed again, her arms reaching around his neck, her fingers running through his hair as thanks. Thanks for all the sensations he was causing; his warm hand resting against the curve of the back of her neck, under her hair, his other hand planted firmly on her waist as he stood from the stairs and pressed their bodies together. They tore away again to breathe, but the moment their eyes met Wendy instructed, "My room."

They rushed up the staircase, hands knotted together as they made it to her room; locking the door behind them. Wendy looked to him from against the door only to be hypnotized by his bedroom eyes. They stood in silence for a only a moment before Kyle slowly opened his arms wide, inviting her inside. She pressed back those giddy tears again as she ran and pounced on him, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck as they kissed fiercely. She was mesmerized by the feeling of his tongue overwhelming her with his flowery taste. He was warm and delicious, just what she needed on a blizzard-day like this. He twirled her around, and tickled her sides, causing her to fall with laughter; she found herself on her bed.

She looked up to him, her hair spread beneath her like raven's feathers, her arms lying limp above her head, her legs spread, still surrounding his waist. He held onto the white bedposts at the foot of her bed, not realizing his chest was flexing in just the way Wendy liked. He shot forward, releasing the posts as he dropped onto her gracefully, kissing her again. He broke away and painted a sly smirk she had never seen on him before, the smirk surely was a promise of chaos or sexual deviance, either way it excited her more than any other expression she had seen on a human being before. He bit his lip, perking a brow to her as she very suddenly felt his hands under her skirt. His silky digits were gripping the sides of her purple, lace panties, slowly sliding them down. She didn't object, she only held a humored, still sensual gaze with him. Soon enough they were on the floor as she gasped at the sensation of his hands against the inside of her thigh. He leaned forward, kissing her lips softly again; she tried to ignore the eager pangs below her waist as he kissed down her neck.

His hands slid under her shirt, unhooking her bra with skill she never would have imagined. He brought his arms out from under her shirt, bringing his fingers to the loose straps under her short-sleeves and pulled them down her arms, one at a time. After the bra was completely unhooked from her limbs and torso, he reached back into her shirt, pulling the garment out and casting it aside. His torrid palms crawled up her sides again, resting right below her breasts, against her ribs as he leaned up and kissed her again. He lingered, though, his tongue running and wrapping with hers as he gripped the hem of her shirt and began to bring it close to her neck. He stopped where it only just covered her, the shadow her chest cast down her stomach visible to him as he broke away from their kiss. He smiled, his fingers lift the shirt only slightly to allow him to run his tongue across the target of nerves. She shuddered and whimpered softly as his tongue and lips danced with the center of her hill while simultaneously lifting the rest of her shirt off of her.

When her shirt was completely off, his other hand reached to her neglected, pert bud and attempted to retrieve more gasps and cries, which ended in beautiful success. He was moving his lips to the opposite orb, but she stopped him half-way. He smiled as he rested his chin gently in her cleavage, breathing in her scent. He told her lowly, "I'm not finished with you. Whatever it is, it will have to wait."

She blushed furiously as he kissed down her cleavage, down her fit stomach, but was finally met with her plaid, purple/black/white skirt. He looked up to her, smiling devilishly as he gripped the hem and painfully, slowly pulled it down her legs. Before the skirt was off her ankles he was on her; kissing the tip of her opening, feeling her shudder and gasp from above. He smiled and leaned back a bit, running his hands down her naked calves to her small, milky-smooth feet. He fit his hand to rest against her feet, his fingers curling over her toes, unintentionally leaving trails of torrid, but incredibly pleasant pins and needles in his wake. He gripped her foot playfully and rested them on his shoulders, diving forward again so that her knees replaced where her feet used to be. Her toes spread and curled again at the abrupt sensation of Kyle's tongue on her jewel. His hands held her thighs in place, her legs gripping to him; grateful for his stop in his tantalization.

He heard her gasp loudly as his tongue dipped into her and pulled out again. His tongue coated her entrance, entering, swirling, savoring and exiting to only enter her again. She was nearly at the edge when she shot forward with a cry, pulling Kyle up by his curls to her. She kissed him fervently and slurred lustfully, "No, I want to do this right…"

"This?"

"Come."

His face was a brilliant red, but there was a testosterone-driven mission in his eyes. They gazed at each other for a long moment before he reached down to the bottom of his shirt, bringing it over his head and throwing it away to some forgotten corner of the room. She ogled his thin, but strong chest, hairless and lightly freckled here and there. She gripped his belt before he had begun to undo it, she looked up to him with a smile; conveying her wish to undo it herself. She patiently unbuckled the grey lock and began to slide the leather from its loops as he kissed from her ear, down her cheek, down her neck and bit lightly at her shoulder. She felt shivers fall up and down her back from his lashes brushing all of the warm spots he had kissed as he traveled to the crook of her neck.

She was about to get to his button, but he gripped her wrists, causing her to look up to him. He leaned down and kissed her romantically. At first it was sweet, soft, then he let his tongue into her. He was moving against hers very slowly, but fiercely all the same, his lips mashing with hers hungrily as his taste flooded her. She was losing herself in his, lately, too familiar spell. His hands moved away from hers, cupping her jaw lovingly as he deepened his kiss. Her hands shaking with anticipation, she quickly unbuttoned his jeans and shot her hand down his boxers. She felt him instantaneously rip away from her, his back arched while she felt his boyhood grow curiously in her hands, "Ahh—W-Wendy…ah…"

She relished the sound of his lust-fogged cry, his entire body was heated and soft, pressing against her, but for reasons she could not place, she wanted more. She needed more. She brought her hands up, nearly laughing at Kyle's disappointed groan. She pushed off her palms and threw her back into her mountain of frilly pillows, her long hair fanned out beneath her. He swallowed what may have been a ball of fire as he comprehended her beautiful, naked body stretched out before him. She smiled, loving the control she never knew she had over him. He looked to her, biting his lip until he uttered, "I'm…betraying Stan."

"Who?"

Kyle's eyes widened, but the lust, the hunger for her was only growing. He never would have acted on it. He never would have spoken, never would have revealed his conflicting emotions for his best friend's girl.

"Did you?"

"With him?"

"Yes."

"No."

His heart thumped loudly in his ears as he asked, "Never?"

"Never."

"So I'll be your…first?"

She smiled, "Not if you keep this up."

He blushed furiously, a very animal-like instinct taking over as he dropped his jeans and boxers. He followed her path, drawing close to her and kissing her passionately. Her arms encircled his neck as she fit her legs around his waist; he closed his eyes, biting his lip as their hips clashed. They both let out a moan, Wendy's had a tinge of pain, but Kyle found himself deafened by the blood rushing through his body. The thrusting became something he couldn't control as her cries became more of want than hurt, names and colorful slang filled the room; gasping, whimpers, clutching and sweat showered them. As her feminine hands gripped his shoulder-blades, her fingers spread and just as sweat-misted as him, his eyes shut tightly and he felt a tear drop down his face. He opened his eyes to her, muttering, "H-He'll hate me…"

Her muscles clutched around him, reminding him of just how badly he loved his guilty pleasure. Another tear dropped from his other emerald eye as he heard her murmur, "I'll a-always love y-you, though…"

She pulled him down kissing him and filling him with that glorious happiness he could find with no other girl, flooding him with that elation that he hated. The animal inside him drove him to grip her harder, to push further, to pant louder, to prove in some physical sense just how much he hated loving her. She only smiled, throwing her head back, so thankful, so beautiful and glorious in his arms. She stuttered his name a few times before finally yelling out and climaxing around him. He moaned and fell into his own oblivion of bliss. He savored the bittersweet high as he tried to see how long he could hold his body above hers, but the more he stayed within her the more her wet cavern gripped and released around him; rushing waves of pleasure all over his body.

He stared down at the raven-haired vixen who had haunted his dreams, never letting him rest, never giving him a moment of peace, until he finally pulled out, causing her to gasp and fell beside her. She 

was so intelligent, so sharing and beautiful. He loved her. He didn't only love her, though, he cherished her, he worshipped her, praised her, kissed the ground she walked upon. Lust was a sin. Yet, so was envy. He had betrayed his neighbor, his friend, his best friend. It took his breath away. She crawled into his hold as he heard her ask, "Why did you cry?"

He smiled sadly, somewhat embarrassed as she looked up to him. He told her simply,

"I was sorry."

"For what?"

"I've been jealous."

**.End.**

**Tell me what ya think! :D**


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